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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27120686">mint chocolate melting</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunSparrow/pseuds/SunSparrow'>SunSparrow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fantasizing, M/M, Secret Crush, Unresolved Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:15:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,376</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27120686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunSparrow/pseuds/SunSparrow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A study in tranquility, Taeyong swings effortlessly from the chandelier, upside-down. Dejun watches helplessly as Taeyong trails fingers down his own collarbone, catching on the neckline of his shirt.</p><p>An ocean roars in Dejun's ears.</p><p>He can't tear his eyes away.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lee Taeyong/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>69</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>mint chocolate melting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>that mv scene of taeyong putting the flower behind dejun's ear has me all kinds of messed up</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the midst of <em>Make A Wish</em> filming, Dejun experiences true fear.</p><p>A study in tranquility, Taeyong swings effortlessly from the chandelier, upside-down. Dejun watches helplessly as Taeyong trails fingers down his own collarbone, catching on the neckline of his shirt.</p><p>An ocean roars in Dejun's ears.</p><p>He can't tear his eyes away.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>When Dejun goes to bed, he's exhausted on too many levels. His body aches and the space behind his eyes is <em>throbbing.</em> His brain can't hold onto one thought for more than two seconds at a time. </p><p>He needs to sleep.</p><p>He also can't afford to wake up at 3am tonight as he is unfortunately prone to do.</p><p>Dejun needs a fresh face, bright eyes, and a bottomless well of energy for tomorrow. The cameras are merciless. He's going to be compared to twenty-two other handsome and talented men, measured against their greatness and found lacking if even one thing is wrong.</p><p>Dejun needs to be perfect, and to be perfect he needs to <em> sleep. </em></p><p>He hears Yangyang's faint snoring in the other bed a few feet away from him—</p><p>It's just going to take a few minutes, he reasons, and he'll be quiet—</p><p>Dejun slips his hand under the covers, letting his fingers trail down his chest and curl around his length. He doesn't have any lotion nearby, but he gathers up all the saliva he can in his mouth and quietly spits into his palm. He grabs several tissues from the nightstand and tucks them under his waist for easy access.</p><p>He keeps his breaths even and steady as he touches himself. Thinks of the women he sometimes furtively watches on his mobile phone, browsing late, late at night. Pretty faces, seductive eyes. Soft, plush lips wrapped around his dick.</p><p>Their eyes shift to familiar ones, impossibly large and pretty. Taeyong's eyelashes flutter, tears dripping down like diamonds as he chokes himself on Dejun's length. His mouth is soft, and so <em>wet</em>—Red, red lips leave behind smears of makeup as he sucks, smudging messily around his mouth—</p><p>Dejun comes <em>hard</em> with a gasp that makes Yangyang shift in the other bed. He furtively pulls down the sheet and tries to wipe up what he can, his senses hyperaware for his roommate's possible awakening.</p><p>
  <em>What the fuck just happened?</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Dejun can't meet Taeyong's eyes the next day. Time scrapes by as they film various scenes until late at night.</p><p>As soon as he sees Taeyong in his peripheral vision, Dejun makes sure to turn away just enough so he can't face him head-on. He doesn't trust his own expression not to give away his inner turmoil.</p><p>Dejun doesn't know what to do when Taeyong carefully tucks a flower behind his ear, feeling a shiver trickle down his spine at the touch. Dejun holds his breath for a second too long, then laughs nervously. He doesn't know what else to do.</p><p>He struggles to finish the scene.</p><p>Tries not to think of those kind, gentle hands exploring the rest of his body.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Dejun leans on the kitchen island counter, replaying the music video over and over. </p><p>His eyes are immediately drawn to Taeyong each time.</p><p>Dejun bites his bottom lip, frustrated with himself. He knows how to bury feelings deep, how not to examine emotions too closely, but Taeyong's presence is so powerful that it's difficult to ignore.</p><p>Dejun can't help but note the way his eyes uneasily shift away from Taeyong during the impromptu flower scene.</p><p>Before, when Dejun had asked Ten what Taeyong was like, Ten had quickly reassured him, "He's so nice, you'll like him, Dejun," before flitting off to talk to Johnny.</p><p>Dejun had succumbed to curiosity a few times after that, finding there was a general consensus among Ten, Sicheng, and Lucas. <em>Taeyong is a great leader, caring and kind. A person who's sometimes nervous but used to putting aside his own fear for the sake of others.</em></p><p>After all that's happened in the past two days, Dejun is still intimidated. Unprovoked fantasies aside, he's terrified of how this man is a top-tier performer but utterly selfless when it comes to his group members.</p><p>Dejun is nowhere near perfect, has learned to be selfish sometimes, to keep certain dark things close. How can such a beautiful person be so brave and scared and kind at the same time?</p><p>A presence suddenly makes itself known behind him, resting their chin on Dejun's shoulder to watch the video as well.</p><p>Kunhang.</p><p>Dejun smiles a little in his relief.</p><p>Kunhang can always sense his moods and never judges him. Dejun lets his hand wander behind him before finding Kunhang's slender hand and threading their fingers together. He lets himself relax into the other man's lean frame.</p><p><em> "Taeyong is so good at this," </em> Dejun murmurs aloud, reverting to Mandarin since there are no cameras around, now. <em> "He's so beautiful, too. How can I even compare?"  </em></p><p>"What?" says a voice that's most decidedly <em> not </em>Kunhang, in a language that's decidedly <em> not </em>Mandarin.</p><p>Dejun whips around, startled, dropping the other's hand.</p><p>Taeyong.</p><p>Dejun's forgotten how to speak. No, it's not that but—he has no words; they're not coming to him at all, in any language he knows.</p><p>"I heard my name. And 'beautiful'," Taeyong says thoughtfully, trying to puzzle it out. "I think."</p><p>Dejun freezes, glancing over quickly at the unlocked door to their dorm and then back to Taeyong. He quickly weighs the risks of running away now and suffering more later, versus suffering through this conversation now and possibly ending his misery.</p><p>Taeyong tilts his head like a puppy. It makes something tilt uncomfortably in Dejun's chest, too.</p><p>"N-no," Dejun stumbles over the simple word. "I said you were very good at dancing," he redirects. It's not totally a lie.</p><p>Thankfully, Taeyong takes his statement at face value, smiling openly and saying, "Thank you, Xiaojun." </p><p>Dejun tries not to let guilt and embarrassment eat him alive. </p><p>Taeyong continues, "Glad you like the music video too. You were amazing! The internet is going crazy for you. I brought some macarons for you and the others to celebrate."</p><p>He gestures at a ribbon-wrapped box on the counter. Taeyong leans in and whispers, like they're sharing a secret: "There are a few mint chocolate ones for you."</p><p>Dejun smiles back, a small fountain of delight bubbling up in his chest. A little more at ease, he takes in Taeyong's makeup-less face, the soft clothes he chooses to wear outside scheduled events. </p><p>It's a privilege to see this side of Taeyong, the more human side. He's no less beautiful, and rather than feeling jealous, Dejun's admiration only grows.</p><p>Tucked under Taeyong's arm is a little bag. "What's that?" Dejun asks.</p><p>"Oh! Some dried sweet potatoes I really like. Want to try?" Taeyong opens up the bag and takes a piece out, holding it up in front of Dejun's face. His expression is expectant and waiting.</p><p>Dejun tries not to think too hard about how endearing Taeyong is when he's trying to feed other people. Tries not to think about what tightrope he's walking right now, as he leans forward and gently wraps his lips around the piece of sweet potato.</p><p>His lips brush against Taeyong's fingertips.</p><p>Taeyong's eyes are so large and pretty and kind.</p><p>Quickly, Dejun draws back and chews thoughtfully. The snack is mildly sweet, not overly so, and satisfying in mouthfeel. Dejun swallows past the annoying lump in his throat. "Thank you, Taeyong-hyung," he says meekly. </p><p>"You're doing great, Xiaojun," Taeyong says with a smile and reassuring squeeze of his shoulder that makes Dejun hold his breath until Taeyong leaves.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Dejun is alone the next time he has trouble sleeping. His body thrums with unspent energy, seeking release.</p><p>Giving himself over to desire, he strokes himself, letting his thoughts wander immediately to soft lips, a lithe body, firm hands.</p><p>Pictures himself kneeling between Taeyong's spread legs, looking up into his eyes.</p><p>With a shaky sigh, Dejun places his <em>(Taeyong's)</em> fingers in his mouth. He carefully unravels the fantasy in his mind: the taste of dried sweet potato, kind eyes, a soft voice whispering, <em>"You did good, Dejun. You're so good."</em></p><p>Dejun trembles, sighs beneath his<em> (Taeyong's)</em> touch, and quietly comes undone.</p>
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